Talk of the Town

by Suzanne Macpherson

  It was midnight. He’d get some sleep and come at it fresh tomorrow. He just wished Kelly was in his bed tonight, safe in his arms.

  He felt what that would be like and it made him ache for her so bad his body hurt. His body and his mind. He pressed the elevator button, stepped inside, slid his key in the lock, and hit P. The doors closed. The lights were dim. He kept the building on minimal lighting after eleven to cut the power consumption.

  There was one way to keep Kelly safe. One way to have her with him so he didn’t ache for her every minute, and one way to buy her some time. He’d marry her. A change of name would do her good. Sam smiled—Kelly Atwood Bianchi Applebee Grayson. It had a ring to it.

  The elevator doors opened and he walked across to his front door. He better hang on—he was in for a bumpy ride.

  Kelly woke up a blonde, thanks to Myrtle and the pumpkin-party gals. Even her eyebrows had been bleached. She threw off the covers and ran to the dressing table. Her hair had grown past her ears and now she had a feathery cap of blonde spikes with blonder highlights. She was a double-process girl.

  Myrtle said she needed a new look. More like a new disguise, Kelly figured. Kelly was filled with a new kind of resolve. She was going to beat this. The past was going to fade like morning fog and leave her in the clear.

  She showered quickly and wrapped herself in a huge beach towel she’d found amongst the linens.

  Her whole wardrobe looked different on her. She settled on red, as usual: red bra, tight red T-shirt, and her jeans. Wow, on a blonde, red was pow.

  This just might work. She didn’t look like herself at all. She peered in the full-length closet door mirror. Her once-gaunt face had filled out softer. She must have put on ten pounds with all this great food in Paradise. She’d never eaten this well in her life. Somehow, it looked fine. Her bust line definitely benefited from the extra. Not bad. She smirked at herself in the mirror. She needed to stay strong.

  She dressed in a flash and ran downstairs. It was early morning, and Myrtle was still in her Chinese silk pajamas. They were turquoise and lined with flannel and really warm. Kelly knew because Myrtle had given her a red pair.

  She had work to do. The haunted house project had been launched last night along with her hair, and it was going to keep her very busy.

  “Mornin’,” she said to Myrtle. She brought over the coffee percolator and poured Myrtle a refill.

  “Mornin’. Damn, you’re a good blonde. I did a fine, fine job, if I do say so myself. No one would know you from Eve. Glad you’re up early. That’s good. I’ve been thinkin’ on your problems.”

  Kelly brought her cup of coffee over to the table and sat next to Myrtle. “I’m sorry I dumped it all on you last night.”

  “Don’t think twice about it. We’ll get it ironed out.” Myrtle handed Kelly a piece of toast with cheese melted on it and went on talking. “So now, here’s what I’ve come up with. It seems to me that ol’ Ray or someone else was going to spend this money on bad things that would get sold to bad people—that would get into the hands of a bunch of mixed-up kids after a spell. Then some mama down in Los Angeles would be wringin’ her hands, tryin’ to figure out how to get her kid back on track, and she’d be missin’ work worryin’ and lookin’ for that kid. Are you followin’ me here?”

  “Yes,” Kelly said, listening intently.

  “What say we send a donation to that Boys and Girls Club down there that keeps those kids busy and off the streets, so that mama can keep a roof over her kid’s head?” Myrtle propped her elbow on the table and tapped her chin for a while with her long purple acrylic nails.

  “That sounds great, but how do we send a pile of money to them? That’s a problem.”

  “That’s the truth. How about this? I’ll take the money to Willard Gibbs at the bank. He won’t blink an eye me comin’ in there with a briefcase of money. I know things about him, he knows things about me. We’ll get it turned into a check.”

  “Damn, you’re good, Myrtle.” Kelly swallowed her coffee and stared, amazed at the inter-weavings of Paradise society.

  “You get the address, and we’ll have a mailing party. Now, when we stick this in the mailbox, you, missy, are going to say goodbye to the old days. You can’t let the past push around your present, or your future, neither. Take it from me, I should know.” Myrtle winked.

  “Myrtle, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  “We’ve been all through this. You’re meant for someone else.” Myrtle poked her in fun.

  Kelly patted Myrtle’s arm. “I wish you’d been my mom, Myrtle.”

  “We play the hand we’re dealt. But you’re here now, and we have lots of time to make up for it. If I’d had a daughter, I’d hope she’d be just like you. Full of spit and vinegar.”

  “Quit it, or I’ll start blubbering.”

  “Well, it’s true.” Myrtle took Kelly’s hand, then patted it vigorously. “Hey, we’re comin’ up on your first holiday season in Paradise. We do it up big around here.”

  “Speaking of, I’ve got to round up help for the haunted Shipley house project. I figure Ginny and Will, and even Robert and who knows who else. We’ll get a work party up there this weekend.”

  “Just the thing to take your mind off everything.” Myrtle got up and put her cup in the sink. “I better get myself fixed up. Eleanor Palmer’s coming in for a beehive at eight-thirty. She’s an early bird, too.”

  “Good, you keep Eleanor busy while I get the rest of the Palmers jazzed up. Maybe we’ll make this haunted house project a benefit to fix up the Shipley house and make it usable to the community.”

  “That’s one grand idea. It’s a short time to pull something together, but you’re young. You can do it. Heck, it’s already spooky as hell up there, just patch up the busted spots and set up some sound effects. You can borrow ol’ Fluffy if ya like.”

  “Thanks, hon.” Kelly kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to get to work. I left you some hot water.”

  “Decent of you.” Myrtle’s voice drifted as she went up the stairs. “Get my Not Just a Waitress red lipstick out of the tray in the salon. It goes just perfect with that shirt.”

  Kelly washed out the two coffee cups and set them in Myrtle’s dish drainer. What if she’d grown up in a nice house here in Paradise as someone else’s child? With parents and a family and cousins and one school and church socials? Who would she be? Would she be the girl of Sam’s dreams?

  She probably wouldn’t be wanted for murder.

  Kelly wondered for a moment who Sam would be when she heard from him again. Her lawyer, or her lover, or neither of those.

  She decided she wasn’t going to allow herself to think about it. She’d go crazy. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to find the grit to make it through alone. She’d just throw herself into the Shipley house project. Fixing something up would feel good right now.

  The dining room was straight out of Dickens’s Great Expectations. The furniture was draped with white sheets, and the cobwebs were too numerous and authentic to remove: candelabras and cobwebs for Miss Haversham’s wedding dinner. At least there wasn’t any old food petrified on the table. Kelly had set ten places of the Shipley sisters’ Limoges china for the ten cheesecloth ghosts supplied by Nettie’s Bazaar. She thought it looked pretty spooky—in a funny way. Will had strung the ghosts up to the ceiling so they appeared to float.

  Kelly looked down her clipboard checklist for Fire Safety and scribbled a note to herself. She’d have to get Red Miller to replace the candles with battery-operated ones.

  The town had really jumped on her haunted house project. There had to be thirty people here. It helped that everyone seemed to have five relatives to lend to the preparations. Plus Cora had sent sandwiches and apple cider for all.

  She walked down the hall to the sweeping curved staircase and started up to the second floor. The sound of pounding hammers and busy folks got louder as she approached.

  Someone had the brilliant idea of re
placing the old portraits with fakes sporting realistic eyeballs that seemed to watch you as you climbed the stairs. Very clever.

  The double door to the outside porch was now unboarded, repaired, and wide-open. She checked it off her list. The porch was actually the biggest problem. It needed some real carpentry work, and Red Miller couldn’t get away till tomorrow.

  Maybe his brother Herschel, who’d wandered over from his place across the way, could do it. Heck, maybe she’d get him working with Mabel Thompson. She seemed perfectly capable of swinging a hammer. They could work out their legal differences with tools. It would be cheaper than going to court.

  She stood on the wide old porch and looked out over the land. This must have been grand at one time. Rocking on the porch watching the sun go down.

  It had been a long day, and the sun was three o’clockish. She wished for a chair. But she knew if she sat down and rested, her mind would travel to Sam. Mrs. Palmer had given her time off to work on the house, which meant she’d been up here almost every day, away from morning coffee at Cora’s—and away from Sam.

  She hadn’t answered his daily messages, despite being set upon by a quartet of concerned Paradise matrons. She was…busy.

  Maybe she’d tackle the blackberries rambling up the side posts before dark. Where were those clippers?

  A figure came toward the house, but the sun glared in her eyes and she could only see his outline. Hopefully it was someone with carpentry skills.

  Sam. It was Sam. He strode straight up to her and grabbed her and kissed her. She dropped her clipboard. His mouth was hot on hers, and finally she wrapped her own arms around him in return. He came for her. He came.

  He let her go enough to look in her face.

  “Oh, my God, you’re a blonde.”

  “I’m in disguise.”

  “Not bad. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

  “How’d you know where I was?”

  “You’re talking Paradise, here. Did you think I’d just forget about you? I want you back in my bed.”

  “So it’s sex, then?”

  “Damn straight. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “That’ll do for now, I guess.” Kelly breathed in the scent of him. His flannel shirt was as smooth and warm as an embrace. She wanted to crawl inside it with him. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face.

  He pulled her back to him and let her put her head on his chest. It felt so good.

  “Kelly, I’m not saying I agree with the way you are handling your problem, but while we figure it out, I want to be with you.”

  “I’d like that, Sam,” she said, letting her tears dry against his soft shirt. Then she straightened herself up. She wasn’t going to cry anymore.

  He handed her his handkerchief. “I’ve been working on your case. But there’s been no change.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. But now I need you. Did you bring a hammer?” she asked. She blew her nose on his embroidered-with-a-G linen handkerchief and handed it back to him. He smiled at her and shook his head. She did need him, for more than hammering nails; but she didn’t want it to show too much.

  “I heard all about your Shipley haunted house project.”

  “Great idea, isn’t it? It’s keeping me out of trouble.” She backed out of his arms and put a little distance between them. She watched him accept that and not react.

  “I’m all for that. I’ve got a toolbox in the truck,” he said in a very even tone.

  “What? Are you telling me rich-boy lawyer can pound nails?”

  “Honey, give me some power tools and move over.”

  Kelly found that rather sexy. Of course, whatever Sam did was sexy. He just was. She stood back a step and took him in. His wavy brown hair and blue-jay blue eyes were enough already. Combined with that body? Stage-two sexy. Add his mind and his down-home upscale ways? Bingo, we have a winner, as old Fred would say on Bingo nights at the grange hall.

  If she thought Sam was a catch before, after she watched him single-handedly rebuild the front porch with a circular saw, a pile of boards, and a hammer…well, any lawyer who could do that made her feel like she’d hit the big Vegas jackpot. Now she wanted his children.

  Every time she was around Sam she fell harder. She held the ends of the boards for him while he cut. She handed him nails. They worked hard together and stood back to admire the job together, just as the sun lowered toward the horizon all orange and red and pink.

  “It’s just a damn good thing the joists were solid. If you’ve got good joists, it’s easy.” Sam wiped the sweat off his brow with the flannel shirt he’d tossed off earlier.

  He had on one of those tank T-shirts that Kelly usually thought of on old guys. The way Sam’s muscles flexed around in that thing, she’d never get that former image again. He smelled like sawdust. She just couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted him, and she didn’t want to hold herself back another minute. She flipped off the shop light they’d set up.

  Kelly came over to him and slid her whole body against him. She pinned him against a porch column.

  “Just do me.” She pressed her newfound, rounder breasts into him and squirmed.

  “Damn, woman. You sure know how to get a guy hot and bothered.” He ran his hands up her back and under her shirt.

  She could feel his pulse quicken as she mouthed his neck and spread her hands across his chest. The porch was dark, and they were in the shadows. Inside she could hear voices of people still working. They became a blur as Sam touched her.

  His thumbs pressed into her nipples through her thin bra. He made circles. She could feel the heat and hardness of his desire pressing against her.

  “Sam.”

  The porch lights flicked on. They jumped away from each other. Kelly combed through her hair with her fingers.

  Will Palmer stepped out.

  “Look at this porch! Great work out here, you two,” Will said.

  Ginny was right behind him. “We’ll all be back after church tomorrow to finish decorating,” Ginny said. “We’ve got raffle tickets left over from the church social, and Mrs. Palmer called the Pioneer to place an ad for the haunted house. A reporter will be coming out tomorrow to take a few pictures. It’s just looking great, Kelly!” Will hooked Ginny’s arm and pulled her along. He whispered in Ginny’s ear as they walked away. Ginny grinned and waved goodbye.

  Kelly could just imagine what Will said, and it was probably all true. She managed some parting words. “Thanks so much, everyone, this’ll be really fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “’Bye, Sam,” Ginny said with that tone in her voice.

  “Good night, Ginny, Will,” Sam called.

  A stream of people started coming out the door and departing. Kelly thanked each one. The last person, Robert Palmer, asked if they wanted to lock up and handed them the key. He looked a little disgruntled to see Sam on the porch with Kelly, but went away whistling.

  When the last car drove out of the driveway, Sam turned to Kelly. His mouth found hers, and he knew she felt the demand of his passion for her. She didn’t run or push him away this time. She stayed put. He undid the top button of her jeans and slid his hand inside. The cold night air went hot on him.

  “Sam, not here.”

  “Yes, here. Now.” He picked her up, carried her through the double doors, down the hall, through several passages to the kitchen. He gently lowered her onto the counter. The room was only slightly lit—enough for him to see her wanting him. Sam kissed her deeply, then pulled her red T-shirt up and over her head.

  The room disappeared around him, and a blur of passionate kisses and touches replaced it. He had her undressed except for her red bra and panties. She wrapped her legs around him and let him press into her. His heat was unrelenting.

  He moved his mouth between and all over her breasts. She leaned back and moaned as he ran his fingers inside her silk panties and buried them deep in her wet, throbbing heat.
She took all the pleasure he was giving her and let herself go to it.

  She cried his name. She opened her eyes. He was watching her as she released and throbbed around his fingers.

  He reached into his pocket for a condom, then his jeans were gone and he was covered and he moved into her and they fit together madly and deeply. Her legs wrapped around him, and she leaned back against the smooth counter.

  He ran his tongue over her breast, and reached down to touch her gently with the pad of his thumb as he moved himself wet and smooth into her heat for a very long time, taking her farther into pleasure.

  He could feel her on the edge of her climax. His strength peaked as he thrust deeply into her one last time. She leaned into him harder and screamed her release from deep in her throat. He joined her.

  They leaned against each other in the remaining heat of their loving, fingers running over each other’s backs, kisses trailing everywhere.

  “Kelly.”

  “Oh, Sam, it’s so good.”

  “I love you, Kelly. I love you.”

  “I love you, Sam.”

  “From now on you’ll sleep in my bed. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Was that a yes?”

  She whispered in his ear, “Yes, that was a yes.”

  “There is one more thing.” Sam reached down to his jeans. He rose, kissed her naked neck, and slipped a tiny black velvet box into her palm.

  “More presents? I told you how these things make me nervous.” She popped open the lid to reveal a huge, glittering heart-shaped diamond ring. Her own heart stopped. She gasped for air. How could he do this?

  “Will you marry me, Kelly?” He took her hand to his lips and kissed her softly in the center of her palm. Then he took the ring and slipped it on her finger.

  “Somehow I always pictured myself with clothes on for this, and your pants are around your ankles.” She resorted to stall humor, as she always did when she fell apart.

  “I want you with me. I’ve fallen in a bottomless pit of love. The only way out is to marry you.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Sam. I’m too stunned. I’m too naked.”